Dog Days
by Laoise Potter
Summary: Young!Rizzles one-shot. Jane introduces Maura to one of her favorite warm-weather delicacies. Inspired by Marcy and Peppermint Patty in "It's The Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown!"


"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'VE NEVER HAD A HOT DOG?!"

Maura bent backwards at almost a right angle away from the leering Jane above her. "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't realize hot dogs were so important to you."

"You mean you've never had a Fenway Frank? Pigs-in-a-blanket? A corndog at a fair? FRANKS AND BEANS?" Jane flailed her arms wildly. "Jiminy Christmas, Maura, how come you never told me before now?"

"I'm not sure, sir, I don't think we've ever—"

"Okay, come on." Jane took Maura by the wrist and steered her up the driveway. "You're staying here for lunch."

Maura stumbled a bit as she tried to keep up. "If you say so, sir."

"Maura, stop calling me 'sir'."

"Sorry, sir."

Jane slammed the door shut behind them and yelled into the depths of the house. "MA! Is it okay if I make me and Maura some hot dogs?"

"_Go ahead, Janie, just be careful with the stove!"_

"Sure thing, Ma!"

"_And make one for your brother, he'll be hungry when he comes back from soccer practice!"_

"Alright!" Her whole torso inside the refrigerator, Jane pushed a jar of this and a can of that aside in pursuit of the hot dogs, muttering to herself the entire time. Maura folded her hands behind her back and watched her dig around.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Uh…yeah." One of Jane's arms shot out of the fridge, nearly knocking a jar of mayonnaise to the floor as she waved it around. "Grab a pan out of the drying rack and put a little water in it."

"Okay." Carefully, Maura took the metal saucepan out of the rack next to the sink and placed it under the faucet. "Should I use cold water or hot water, sir?"

"Doesn't matter, Maura, we're just gonna boil it anyways. A-HA!"

Maura let the water run for a few seconds as Jane extracted herself from the refrigerator. She then lifted the pan out of the sink, satisfied that she had done what her friend had asked, and turned around, jumping back against the counter in surprise as she suddenly found herself face-to-face with what Jane had uncovered.

"Behold, the glorious hot dog!" Jane declared, waving it barely an inch from Maura's nose. "Better than anything you'll ever try in your entire _life_."

Maura studied the hot dog with crossed eyes. "It looks like small kielbasa."

Jane grinned. "Yeah, 'cept it tastes a whole lot better, trust me."

Trusting as always, Maura shrugged her shoulders and took a bite out of the cold sausage without any further prompting. A disgusted look crossed her face as she slowly chewed. "Tastes terrible, sir."

Jane's expression mirrored hers almost exactly. "You're not supposed to eat 'em raw, Maura!" she said, completely horrified. "For Pete's sake, you have to _cook_ 'em first! Gross!"

"Oh." Maura scrunched her nose and stopped chewing. "Is there some place I can spit this out, sir? I don't want to swallow it."

"Yeah, yeah, the trash can." Jane waited for her friend to straighten up before she tossed the rest of the hot dog in. "Geez, Maura. Now put the pan on the stove, will ya? I'm gonna show you how to have a dog like a _real_ Bostonian."

Maura obeyed and watched silently as Jane went to work, poking holes in each hot dog and prodding them gently around in the pan. She had Maura retrieve a pot, a can of baked beans and a can opener as she set the dogs to simmer, and after watching her friend's hand slip fifteen times in an attempt to open the beans Jane snatched both can and can opener away and asked her to get a knife instead. Unable to ignore the disappointment on Maura's face, Jane handed her a wooden spoon when she returned and told her to keep a good eye on the beans.

"What's the knife for, sir?" Maura asked as Jane retrieved two bowls and a plate from one of the cabinets.

"It's to cut the dogs up into bite-sized bites," Jane replied. "We're gonna mix them into the beans once they're heated up enough."

"Oh. Are those the Frank's beans you were talking about earlier?"

Jane sighed. "It's franks _and_ beans, Maura. Like Frankfurter."

"Oh. Like the city in Germany?"

"No, Maura, like the sausage."

"Oh."

A few minutes later, Jane dumped the sliced hot dogs in with the beans and placed a hand over Maura's, directing her to stir with gusto. Maura had to adjust her footing to make sure she wouldn't be knocked to the ground by the force of Jane's enthusiasm. "A-are we almost done, s-sir?" she stuttered.

"Yep! Grab the bowls. Put 'em right here." Jane released Maura so she could get their bowls and scooped out large spoonfuls of franks and beans with a joyous, lopsided smile. "Yeah, that's the stuff."

"Do we eat it with a fork or a spoon, sir?" Maura asked from the silverware drawer.

"Spoon. Frankie is weird and likes to use a fork, but you don't get all the juices that way." Picking up both bowls, Jane led the way to the table and placed them down with a contented sigh. "Bon appétit, weirdo. Go on, take a bite!"

Maura looked at her. Jane gestured eagerly. Carefully, Maura lifted a spoonful to her mouth and chewed. Surprise crossed her face almost immediately. "It tastes good, sir!"

"See? What'd I tell ya?" Jane dug into her own meal, grinning widely. "You're a real Bostonian now," she mumbled through her full mouth.

"Feels good, sir."

"Good. And Maura?"

"Yes?"

"Stop calling me 'sir'."

"Sorry, sir."


End file.
